now it's clear as this promise
by safeandsound13
Summary: Finn and Rachel become YouTube sensations thanks to a little bet. Finn/Rachel, could be considered headcanon, m for mentions


**help i read about this little season three kinda au idea on twitter and i cant breathe my heart hurts so bye #finchelforever (also i promise this is the last time i change my penname ! ! !)**

**ic atn; feE l mY fcae**

x

_it's like you're my mirror_

_my mirror staring back at me_

_i couldn't get any bigger_

_with anyone else beside of me_

…

"He got like five thousand views, or something."

"No way."

"Did someone assist him? It just seems very unlikely that he out of all people..." Rachel's voice trails off as a grimace appears on her face.

"Nope, I guess Sam filmed it but he did like, the entire thing himself. Nothing says _Merry Christmas, Mom_ like a visit to the hospital," Finn smiles to himself, not taking his eyes of the tv. The whole happening was pretty hilarious. Crazy, but like, _super_ hilarious.

"Five thousand views?" Rachel repeats more to herself than Finn, but he smiles at her obvious jealousy. Her voice is steady but her facial expression is dripping with jealousy.

"Yeah, I guess people like seeing other people fly into walls and break their legs and shit," Finn raises his eyebrows skeptically to himself as he leans to the left, unconsciously moving along with his character on the tv screen in front of them, a controller in his hands.

"Even if that person is _Noah Puckerman_?" Rachel says with a huff, (notably) annoyed as she takes a sip of her tea. She's so upset she doesn't even scold him for cussing, which would make him seriously turn his head if he wasn't about to _crush_ this game.

"I guess it doesn't matter when it comes to seeing other people suffer," Finn lets out a small chuckle, before his face lights up and he throws to controller on the couch to the side, fistpumping. "New personal record," he breathes, sinking back into the couch with his hands behind his head.

Rachel is quiet for a while, lost in thought as Finn stares at her. He sits back up, leaning towards her on the other side of the couch. He puts a hand on her knee, making her head finally snap up to face him. "Babe, you alright?" He snorts, putting a hand on her forehead. "You look kinda sick."

She nods slowly, sighing sadly with a pout forming on her lips.

"Five thousand views?"

He laughs loudly pulling her into his lap as he starts to tickle her sides. She finally lets out a few giggles, her famous 500 watt smile stretching back onto her face.

"I have to admit, Finn, I'm a little jealous of Noah."

He fights to hold back an amused smile. "I didn't notice. Like, at all."

.

Everyone on school is talking about it. It's ridiculous. The idiot swung himself into a brick wall and was lucky enough to _not_ die. What does he get in return? His '_dudes_' highfiving him, silly girls swooning about him even more than before and teachers cutting him slack because he's in a wheelchair with two casts on his legs.

She huffs loudly as she opens her locker. Nobody cuts her any slack. And she actually uses her brain and her god given talents. Finn thinks it's all hilarious though and she's even caught him watch the infamous video when he thought she wasn't paying attention, laughing and probably texting his neandertal friends about it. So much for being an unbreakable and unstoppable team. The solidarity was appalling. Where was his _loyalty_?

The video was up to eight thousand views on YouTube now, her heart _hurt_ just thinking about it. The simplicity of teenagers these days. Laughing and sharing just about anything with their friends on social media.

She was even considering making this social media awareness week in glee club but everyone would just assume she's_ jealous_, so she backed out of that idea. Which she is not, by the way. She has long overcome her two minutes of jealousy of Noah Puckerman. She's better than that. Please.

"Hey Rach," Finn grins as he leans down to kiss her but she turns her head away so his lips land on her cheek. He frowns before he breaks out into a huge smile. "You still mad about Puck's video? I only watched it a couple of times. It was like, super fucking funny."

She gasps, slapping him on the chest, "Finn!" She's not entirely sure if she's mad about the language he's using or the fact he's siding with Noah over this. Either way, she's seething with rage and when she has an emotion, she just has to push it away and let it go, but she can't with this one. She's just so incredibly — _mad_!

She starts storming away (towards class, that is. Can't mess up her perfect attendance record over something so silly as a YouTube video, now can she?) but of course Finn and his giant _giant_-legs can keep up with her unless she starts to actually run. She's not one to cause an unnecessary dramatic scene, so she refrains from that for now. Maybe later.

"Finn, I request you let me walk to class alone —"

"Or what? You're going to throw a temper tantrum about how Puck became like, world famous before you?"

She freezes, an offended look on her face as she turns on her heels to look up at him. "Excuse you, Finn Hudson, but I am over it. Frankly, I just do not like the fact everyone is applauding Noah for risking his life." She sends him a smug look, pleased with herself for coming up with such a good, well-rounded argument.

"You could make one, you know," he tells her as he swings his arm around her shoulders and starts leading her to her next class. (She thinks about shrugging it off to make her point even clearer but she doesn't like to be mean. Plus it feels really nice.) "Singing videos are one of the most watched kind of videos online and your voice is like, more awesome than everyone elses."

"I tried that once and, uhm," She sighs, looking at her feet as they walk, biting down on her bottom lip before adding softly, "It just, didn't work out."

His eyes soften as they stop in front of her classroom. "Just, don't think about it, okay? You're better than all the people in this dumb school." He leans down to kiss her before sending her a small wave.

Her eyes land on Puck, sitting in his stupid wheelchair as he gives a teacher a sad look, probably talking his way out of a paper they had to hand in twelve weeks ago.

She sighs again, her voice bitter as talks to herself, narrowing her eyes at the mohawked _loser_.

"I'll try to."

.

"Berry, you've been bitching all week. What the fuck is up your asshole?"

"I'm appalled by your accusation, Noah," Rachel rolls her eyes as she crosses her arms after flipping her hair over her shoulder and turning away from him. She focuses her eyes on Mr. Schue but on the inside she's burning with rage. She's just that good of an actress.

"Oh, please. You can cut the tension with a knife. And it's not even the good kind of tension, Yentl," Santana interjects, raising her eyebrows, all to happy about having a reason to talk shit about Rachel. She basically thrives on it.

"I think someone's jealous," Quinn adds, amused. By now the entire glee club is staring at Rachel, Finn being one of them and she sends him a scowl at his entertained look. Oh, he's just loving this, isn't he? Well, she's not about to give away a free show.

"I can confirm this is a hundred percent true," Brittany nods, sending Rachel a knowingly look. "It's smelled green in here all week."

"What could I possibly be jealous of?" Rachel fires back, not being able to resist it. "Someone firing themselves into a hard object for a laugh or two? Please. It's all just a big joke."

"Try a laugh or eight thousand and half," Puck smirks, "I'd like to see you try to get half as much views as me."

"With my impeccable talent?" She snaps, turning to send him a glare, "Piece of cake."

"Deal. Loser doesn't get to sing at Nationals."

Mr. Schue tries to butt in but Rachel interrupts his obvious protests.

"_Fine_," she agrees sternly before Puck adds, "But no singing. That's too predictable."

"Well, I sure as heck won't be breaking any bones any time soon, if that's what you're implying. Singing _would_ be too easy, I agree," she retorts with a sarcastic tone to her voice. "I have _many_ more talents for the world to discover."

"Surprise me, Berry," Puck smirks, obviously thinking he's got this in the bag. "You have a week."

This will only make it _so much_ better when she wins this thing and gets to rub it in his face. She exchanges a look with Finn, who looks rather worried mixed with some amusement.

"Get used to swaying in the background, Puckerman."

.

"So, have you figured out what you're going to do?" Finn asks as he stuffs more popcorn in his mouth. He's planted on her bed, mindlessly zapping through the channels on Rachel's small tv while she's behind her computer, _researching_.

She sighs, moving from behind her computer to sit next to him on the bed. She leans her head on his shoulder as she stares at an old rerun of that '70s show. "I don't know. I thought, maybe, doing a tutorial on how to recreate my famous banana bread. I don't know."

"Rach, only forty year old chick want to watch that kind of stuff. And there are only like, three of them online," he says, brushing her hair away from her face as he looks down.

She looks offended at first but then just groans. "I refuse to do something ridiculous, Finn. I am not going to set myself on fire or slip on a banana or, or break my neck or something!"

"There's tons of stuff people like seeing beside that," he tells her, earnestly as he pulls out his phone and puts his his arm around her to give her a better look (and to touch her, because they're alone on her room and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't planning on getting to_ at least_ second base tonight). "Look, you have vlogs and challenges and even work-out videos."

She sits up, wrapping her tiny hand around his to gain control over his phone as she scrolls through it. "I did stumble onto something remarkably peculiar while researching the YouTube."

He snorts, shaking his head to himself as she shows him the video. "It's called a cinnamon challenge."

"You really wanna do _that_?" He looks at the side of her face as she bites down on her lip, obviously contemplating it as she sits up. "You sure?"

"_Everything_ for the art, Finn," she replies sternly, her voice determined before she finally turns to look at him. He knows that look. "Except nudity and animal cruelty, of course."

He colors a little at the word _nudity_ (broadway stars didn't need to be nude, right?) before she starts talking again.

"I need something to get me a sufficient number of views but doesn't have me vomiting on the internet for the rest of my life and could possibly influence my future career."

"It'll get you views," he retorts without skipping a beat, before letting out a small sigh. He puts his hand on her cheek and runs his thumb over the soft skin. "You _will _win this thing, Rach, even if it means I have to watch the video four thousand times myself."

Her eyes sparkle as she beams at him and he leans down to kiss her soft lips. She even lets him deepen the kiss after a minute or so but as soon as he moves onto her neck, she pushes him away a little. He lets out a deep sigh. He hates himself for being annoyed but if he could, he'd probably kiss her for the rest of his life.

"Will you, will you do it with me?" She blurts out, a blush forming on her cheeks as she takes his hand in hers and sits up onto her knees. "I mean, you're popular and I'm not and it could really boost the views, you know?"

He looks at her and the_ cinnamon challenge_ honestly wasn't anything he had written down on some kind of _bouquet list_ or something. But she looks so sad and insecure and still determined and he really wants to know how she does that, you know. Be insecure but still confident and he loves her. He loves her and he literally wants to just do everything for her (he never tells her this because they're just teenagers and he knows feelings go away especially when you're in like, puberty and shit but he _really, _honest to god, frickin' loves her).

This wasn't exactly what he imagined when she told them her parents were out, but what the hell.

.

"We could just make-out for like and hour and hope there are enough horny men out there?"

"Finn," she scolds him, nudging him in the ribs but there's a smile forming on her lips. She lowers her voice as she nods towards the camera subtly, leaning closer, "Maybe later."

"You can just edit out whatever, babe, you do know that?"

"Of course, I do," she squeaks, turning back to the camera. She clears her throat. "Hello. My name is Rachel Berry and this is Finn Hudson and we'll be performing the '_cinnamon challenge_' for you." She beams her mega-watt, blinding smile as he waves a little at the camera. (He feels super awkward talking to a camera so he leaves it to Rachel, pretending he's just doing this with her for fun or something.)

"Will be be doing it at the same time?" She turns to Finn, unsure. "My apologies, dear viewers, I didn't have enough time to prepare this as much as I had liked to."

"Just, uhm, take a spoon and I will to and then we'll count to three or something?" She nods nervously as she takes a spoon and he does too and they hold it up. He shakes his head for a second, staring at the spoon before mumbling, "This is so fucking dumb."

"Excuse me?" She turns to him, her voice warningly and he flashes her a small grin. "Sorry, babe."

"Okay, one.. two—"

"Wait, so on three or after three?" She raises her eyebrows as she looks at him before glancing at the spoon and back at him.

"On three, I guess?"

"Okay, okay, I'm ready," she laughs nervously, running her free hand through her hair. She's _so_ stalling and he knows it. "I think."

"One.." He breathes in deeply, pulling a face as he looks at the brown powder on his spoon. This is awful.

"Wait!"

"Two.."

"No, wait, wait, I'm afraid." She covers her face with her hand, anxiously jumping up and down a little.

"This is going to suck so hard," he says, famous last words and all, before saying the dreaded word. "Three!"

Rachel screams a little before putting the spoon in her mouth, only a millisecond passing before she spits a cloud of brown powder back out of her mouth, coughing loudly.

"You didn't do it?" She yells, slapping his arm, as she wipes her mouth, "I can't believe you didn't do it!"

"I-I can't, I can't be-believe you d-did." He isn't able to contain his laughter, almost doubling over as he grabs onto his stomach. He manages to hiccup, "That, th-that was price… price-less!"

Finally, she burst out into laughter too shaking her head to herself as she buries it into his shoulder. "That was horrible."

"I'm really proud of you for swallowing a spoonful of cinnamon, Rach. You only spit like half of it back out, but this is truly Broadway worthy material."

She punches his arm again, sending him a playful grin before letting out a few giggles. "Puckerman can totally _suck_ it!"

Suddenly realizing they're still on camera, with an award winning smile she adds as an afterthought, "Don't forget to share this video with your friends!"

.

She calls him at six am, something he convinced her to refrain from unless there's an emergency (like Barbra's new album leaking, she'd asked so then he had to proceed to explain what an _emergency _exactly was like a serial killer chasing you or having chest pain — earning him an offended '_So what you're saying is that I _can't _call you when Barbra announces her new tour?_' and three day lasting cold shoulder) since she gets up at the most ungodly hours of the day, but this time he doesn't mind that much. (_That_ much, he still minds, because it's six in the frickin' morning on a Saturday, but less.)

"Guess what?" She almost screams through the phone and he's immediately sitting up.

"Yea? Did we go viral?" He smiles at her voice despite his brain chanting '_sleep, sleep, sleep_' and he rubs his eyes. She always sounds super cute when she's excited. All though he would deny this if one of the guys ever found out about him even _thinking_ this. They'd do a little more than paintball him to shame.

"We have gotten over three hundred views, Finn!" She beams excitedly and he hears their voice on the background. "I did stream it on all available digital supplies in the house the entire night, but I feel like we're going to win this this thing. I feel like we at least have a shot." Her voice audibly softens at the latter part of her rambling.

"I'm really proud no matter what, baby."

"I wanted to thank you—"

"It's okay, Rach, I didn't actually _do_ anything," he teases and normally she laughs at his jokes even if they're stupid but he doesn't hear the most _beautiful_ thing he's ever heard but his ears instead meet with her voice.

"Yes, but I wanted to thank you in a _special_ way."

"Did you make me a video?"

"No, but my daddies are still away to visit my aunt, so I'm all alone."

"Mhm," he mumbles, still half asleep. What he would do for just five... more.. minutes...

"I'm all alone, Finn," she sighs deeply and his brain finally catches up with what she's implying.

"I'll be over in twenty."

.

"Should we read the comments?" She asks, mindlessly as he draws patterns on her bare back with his fingers, his eyes closed. She's lying on her stomach, resting her head on her hands as she stares at the headboard, tapping her fingers on her arm nervously. He's dead tired but he pries them open to look at her. She looks tense. (Tenser than normal because honestly, when is she not tense? Always something to worry about for Rachel. outfits, the future, hunger in Africa, abandoned kittens, _Smash_ being cancelled. You name it and Rachel Berry will worry enough for ten people.)

"You haven't yet?"

"No, I," she pauses, turning her head to look at him. She reaches out to push his hair out of his face, absentmindedly playing with a strand. "And I don't want you to look at them either."

He frowns, and he's mad. Mad at Quinn and the others for making _Rachel Berry_ out of all people so insecure, mad at himself for not doing something about it back then, mad at Rachel for not knowing better. For not knowing that she is absolutely perfect and she doesn't need a bunch of high school Lima losers to validate that she's special, because she is. So special. They're all fuck ups, including him, and she's not. She's everything.

"Rach, they're not going to be bad. People don't hate you. At least not like they used to."

She winces at his words and he regrets them immediately. Damnit. He just _never_ knows what to say. He wants to tell her so much but everything that always comes out just sounds wrong and weird and sometimes just plain dumb.

"I didn't mean it like that. I mean, like, people are going to hate. They always do. But you're amazing. And you have me and an entire group of people who will support you no matter _what_."

She takes in a shaky breath, taking her phone of the nightstand before hesitatingly handing it to him, "Okay, let's read them."

Over the course of a few hours the views have gone up to two thousand and Rachel's eyes almost pop out as he tells her. She kisses him hard, barely able to contain her excitement as she urges him to continue.

"Uhm, four hundred thumbs up and five thumbs down."

"Probably Noah," she rolls her eyes and he likes this attitude. Screw the haters, they're all jealous and probably all Puck.

"There's about a hundred and fifty comments," he continues, looking up to find her a little pale and he shakes his head, smiling. "One, uhm, comment that asks where you got your top."

"Really?" Her face lights up and she leans closer to see if he's actually speaking the truth. She excitedly claps her hands. "Say I got it at Topshop!"

He doesn't get the fuss over Rachel's clothes, and not just because of the short skirts and tight tops. He likes the way she dresses, at least this way he isn't the only one telling her he likes them.

He types a quick comment with a few thousand exclamation points because whenever she texts him she always uses a bunch.

He was right, though, some of the comments are mean. Really mean and he wants to punch every asshole that posted them but he knows they're just dumb comments on the internet and he shouldn't get upset over them.

She sees the look on his face and she surprisingly doesn't sound too hurt, "What? Are they insulting my nose?"

He realizes she probably wasn't worried about the comments because of herself, but because of _him_. She wasn't afraid it would hurt her own feelings, she was afraid he would think she was a loser.

"A lot of them are actually asking for more," he says and he's not lying.

She huffs, "I snorted plenty enough of cinnamon the first time, thank you very much." She laughs, laying down onto her pillow and pulling the sheets closer to her body.

"No, they mean, like, other challenges."

"For example?"

"Some shit called boyfriend does my make-up tag."

"As if. What about girlfriend does my make-up tag?"

"I'd have to consider it," he smirks and she rolls on top of them, raising her eyebrows skeptically.

"Really? You'd do that?" She laughs at the image and at him peppering kisses to her cheeks, neck and collarbone.

He mocks her earlier comment as he rolls them back over, hovering above her as he supports his own weight with his elbows."_Everything_ for the art, babe."

.

It's safe to say they win the bet. They won very hard, as Finn would say.

She quite enjoys showing off a screenshot of the number of viewers to anyone who so much as mentions YouTube. They're onto fourteen thousand by now, which surpasses Noah's by about two thousand.

She basically shoves the screenshot into his face, making a cynical remark, "I guess your fail in your video didn't fail quite hard enough."

"Or should we say it _did_," Finn adds, obviously pleased with his smug remark as he nods his head.

"I can't believe they fuckin' did it," Santana snorts giving Puck a blatantly fake pitiful look. Her voice sickenly sweet as she cooes, "You can be like our waterboy, Puck."

Rachel holds out her first and he bumps his against it. At least now they still have a shot at winning Nationals. She can't bear the thought of her almost letting the team down. Plus, now she's a YouTube celebrity. Who would've thought?

(It doesn't beat the views they got for their _special _Nationals 2011 video, by far, but Noah had _specifically_ told her older videos couldn't enter their little contest over text message.)

"We came, we saw, we conquered!"

"Yeah, someone came alright."

"_Noah_!"

.

It's been about two weeks since their first video when Rachel tells him that even though it started out as kind of a joke, that they should at least give their fans one more video, even if it's a goodbye video. An encore, so to speak.

She finally sets up a camera on her room after they spend half an hour baking cookies (or more like she bakes and he tries to eat the cookie dough and in return gets smacked) and an hour getting ready (_Rachel_ getting ready wearing a pale pink dress he swore she was trying on forty-five minutes ago and then _again_ fifteen minutes ago).

"So, what do you propose we film?"

"We could do fuck, marry, kill?" He suggests, dumbly because not even a second later her hand smacks the back of his head. "Sorry," he mumbles and she tries really hard to hide a smile at the adorable look on his face. He looks like a kicked puppy. Not that she would ever kick a puppy, she does _not_ support animal cruelty.

"What if we review a Broadway musical?"

"Who would even watch that?"

Rachel sighs at herself, shaking her head and raising her eyebrows at the ridiculousness of her own statement. "You're right. They could actually spend their time buying tickets to see it for themselves."

"I saw, uhm, the.. twenty questions thing, uhm, you answer like—"

"Oh, that sounds like fun!" She gushes, clapping her hands excitedly.

"—drunk."

She smacks the back of his head, narrowing her eyes at him. "As _if_, Finn Hudson!"

"Ow!" He grunts through his teeth, sending her a glare. "You get super mean under pressure."

"You get '_super mean',_" she air quotes, pursing her lips, "When— when you're hungry!"

"That would mean I'm always mean, and I don't think I am," he retorts, giving her a weird confused look. He could probably use a sandwich or three right about now and he hasn't said anything mean. Yet.

"And you _hate_ chairs."

He seems surprised and partly confused, his voice unsure (he doesn't hate chairs, _right_? He doesn't remember hating them, not really).

"No, I don't. I—I don't hate chairs."

"Yes, I can confirm this a hundred percent. You always seem to be kicking on over here or there." She huffs, waving her arms to the right and the left before crossing them and pursing her lips.

He frowns, looking down at her, "Well, you— _you_— when you're angry and you use a lot of unnecessary pointing and head-shaking."

She gasps, warningly aiming her finger at him, "I do not!" He nods over at her finger with an amused grin on his face and she gasps again, pressing her hand against her chest with the other one covering it.

"You're too tall," she spits, her hands landing on her hips as she sends him a challenging look, eyebrows cocked.

"I'm too tall? Seriously?" He gives her a questioning look, which earns him a careful nod before he slings her over his shoulder.

"Finn!" She shrieks and he laughs, grabbing onto her waist and holding her close to his chest.

"What?" He asks innocently, looking up as he talks, her hands grabbing onto his shoulders tightly, "How is it up there, Rachel? How's the weather? Is it nice?"

"Perfect. Now put me down," she says firmly but he can see the smile she's suppressing. He slowly drops her to her feet and before she can even blush at the look he's giving her (all amazed and cute and _perfect_) he kisses her.

"_Finn_," she groans, her voice sternly, "You _always_ do this."

"You don't like it?" He asks quietly, brows knitted together and against she feels like she just kicked a puppy as she groans again and stand on her tiptoes to kiss him.

"I _do_, I do," she repeats, fixing his shirt, and trying to focus on that before she loses her train of thought, "but my head, it gets all fuzzy and I can't focus and we need to finish this video before it gets dark and it's—" He connects his lips to her again and her eyes practically roll into the back of her head as he lifts her and stumbles back onto her bed.

"That's what I thought," he breathes against her cheek with a smile before brushing his lips against hers and his hand is moving up on her thigh under her dress and sometimes she just feels like crying because a moment is so, _so_ perfect and she just wants to stay in it forever, but she can't because he'll probably think he's doing something wrong but he isn't. God, he isn't. At all.

"Wait," she breathes out with a laugh, reaching out for the camera next to the bed, almost knocking it over when Finn starts kissing her again. His smile pressed to hers is enough to make her forget about her _very_ expensive birthday present that might or might not have a cracked screen.

Some things don't have to be captured on camera to remain a memory forever.

.

_fin._

…

**yes finn and rachel are a bunch of horny teenagers like they should be + sorry for any mistakes i suck + this little gem-prompt might be continued in the future so make sure to follow + ****a review would be frickin' fantastic c: **


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